Two Kings
by Lunar Pull
Summary: "It wasn't supposed to end like this, but then again, it was never supposed to be." Short one-shot, yaoi.


Disclaimer: I don't own K/K Project, I just love the characters

Warnings: yaoi, m/m sexual content

**Two Kings**

It wasn't supposed to end like this, but then again, it was never supposed to be.

* * *

Reisi rolled over on the bed, unable to catch his breath. He was drenched in sweat and fluids he didn't even want to think about, and the man to blame was lying next to him, whistling in appreciation while he lit another cigarette with a flick of his slender fingers.

Mikoto Suoh was a god, of that there was no doubt. Reisi braved a glance in other man's direction, and despite the fact that his glasses had long since been knocked off his head, he took care to engrave the blurry image of Mikoto glowing a faint red and limbs splayed out carelessly in the white sheets into his memory.

"Did I tire you out, Munakata?" Mikoto asked between cigarette puffs, his tone amused and vaguely fond.

"Three times in one night? Yes, I'd say I'm exhausted." Mikoto simply smiled in response and held out his cigarette in front of Reisi's face until he wrapped his lips around the filtered end and sucked in the smoke.

A silence settled between them then, minutes passing them by as Mikoto continued puffing on his cigarette and scratching softly at the nape of Reisi's neck. Reisi couldn't help but lean into Mikoto's touch, the only warmth in the endless cold blue.

Mikoto put out his cigarette on the ashtray on the bedside table and stood up. The sheets slipped off his body to reveal muscular tanned skin, perfect and smooth, and the tell-tale mark of Homra tattooed just below his collarbone. His gait was regal and unconcerned as he strode softly to the window and sat down on the sill, naked as the day.

Reisi watched the Red King, silhouetted against the city lights, from the comfort of the bed. It was wrong, he knew, to be doing this. To be fucking the man who should be his enemy. To be letting himself lose control. But there was something so intoxicating about the fierce amber eyes, flaming red hair and lilting voice that knew just the right things to say to make Reisi fall apart.

Reisi was a man of discipline; Scepter 4 was an organization created to bring symmetry and order to their delicate world. He valued clear lines of distinction and boundaries. And yet, in this…

In this room, Reisi could lose himself; he could get caught up in the swell of their frantic fucking, the chaos of their sharp kisses and the passion of their heated touch. He could let himself be warmed by the impossible heat of Mikoto and his glorious body, rising to heights unknown, and cool their intertwined bodies when the heat became unbearable.

"Wanna go for round four?" Mikoto said with a sly smirk, something predatory in his measured steps.

"I can't," Reisi replied, although his body was already responding to the other King's intense gaze.

Mikoto merely smiled wider and settled into the mattress beside him. Their shoulders brushed lightly and Reisi found himself relishing their closeness, despite himself. He was the Blue King, a man known for his integrity, his pride and his unbelievable power. But here, next to the Red King himself, he was nothing more than a man. A man with an equal. A man who had met his match in a rebellious gang leader with a big heart. The kind of heart only a true King can possess, and that only a King can appreciate.

Reisi looked at Mikoto, who was staring back evenly. It was like looking at his inverted reflection; a man so close and yet so different from him. And Reisi couldn't help the way his heart hammered against his chest. He couldn't help that he found his hand softly stroking Mikoto's cheek and savoring the way the other man's eyes fluttered shut. He couldn't help the small hum of satisfaction in his throat as he tilted his chin up to let Mikoto claim his lips in a kiss that was far too soft and tender for their usual meetings.

In this room, Reisi could lose control because Mikoto would be there. Mikoto would pull him apart and put all the pieces back together and Reisi would feel like one of the puzzles he spent hours pouring over.

Mikoto would kiss him and make him forget all about how wrong this was. Because here, being encircled in strong arms felt right. What could possibly make more sense than this unholy union of fire and ice? Who could possibly be more worthy of the affections of a King than another King?

A sigh escaped one of their lips—later, when Reisi would find this memory coming back to him, he would not recall who made the sound. He would recall, however, how Mikoto had deepened their kiss, how his hands had stroked him back to attention, how his talented tongue had him writhing against the sheets.

Reisi would recall taking charge and climbing atop the Red King, kissing his neck until he left marks and using his fingers to open Mikoto up for him again, though there was hardly any need. He recalled with perfect clarity the exquisite sensation of entering the fire of Mikoto's body, the slow burn of fucking into him leisurely and steadily, the waves of pleasure crashing against him, enveloping him in the most magnificent clash of power until Mikoto's legs wrapped around him so tightly and a single, shuddering moan signalled his release.

Reisi's orgasm came quickly afterwards and he collapsed into the man underneath. He couldn't recall what had possessed him to whisper into Mikoto's ear, voice trembling with emotion, "you're going to me the death of me."

Mikoto's response had been to wrap his arms around Reisi's neck and bring him closer. When Reisi gingerly pulled out of Mikoto, he slotted himself against the other man's body, his face nuzzling against neck. His arms held on to Mikoto tightly, as if his grip would keep the outside world from crashing into this room.

As if they had a chance of surviving the coming storm.

The naive child in Reisi hoped against hope that this wicked attraction—still too young to be called love—would last forever.

* * *

Reisi felt the blade as sharply as if it had been plunged into his own heart. The sword trembled in his tight grip, but he remained as steady as possible. Mikoto's body slumped against him, the blood staining Reisi's uniform. He thought that Mikoto seemed lighter but he quickly tried to choke back the emotion threatening to overwhelm him. His grip on Mikoto tightened; he was going to die and Reisi was not going to let him die alone and on his knees. Reisi would make sure that Mikoto would die on his feet, with someone to bear witness to the fall of the great Red King.

Mikoto's life was draining out of him rapidly, the force contained in his body slipping away in ghostlike tendrils only Reisi could see. When Mikoto's lips brushed against his ear, Reisi almost didn't hear the words he whispered. The blood was pounding in his head so loudly and all Reisi could do was hold his dying lover, his greatest enemy.

His only equal.

Later on, when Seri, his second in command, asked him if the Red King had said anything before his death, Reisi lied.

The truth was, the words would haunt him until the end of his days.

"I'm glad it was you."


End file.
